


Present Perfect

by fatal_drum



Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Come play, Dirty Talk, Emetophilia, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Humiliation, M/M, Omorashi, Praise Kink, Pussy Spanking, Rough Oral Sex, Trans Jonathan Sims, Trans Martin Blackwood, Watersports, cis tim stoker, fond slut shaming, piss drinking, two Doms are better than one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/pseuds/fatal_drum
Summary: Jon, Tim, Martin, and their adventures in kink.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Tim Stoker/Martin Blackwood
Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804192
Comments: 25
Kudos: 101





	1. Wet

**Author's Note:**

> For a friend. <3 
> 
> Many thanks to cuttooth for their betaing expertise!
> 
> Words used for Martin’s anatomy: slit, folds, cunt, cock, tits

Martin squirms as Jon secures the cuffs to his wrists and ankles, half from impatience, half from his overly full bladder. He’s already starting to regret the last two cups of tea he drank before they started. Jon ignores his struggles, admiring his handiwork as he attaches chains from the headboard to Martin’s wrists. He leaves Martin's ankles unchained.

“Comfortable?” he asks, sliding his fingers between Martin's wrist and the smooth leather. The gesture makes Martin shiver with anticipation.

“Yes, sir,” he promises.

Jon leans down to kiss him, slow and deep and thorough. “What’s your color?” he whispers against his lips. 

“Definitely green!” Martin says, squeezing his thighs together. 

“You’re an eager little slut, aren’t you?” Tim asks, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Yes, sir." Martin confirms. He takes a moment to admire the view. Tim’s firm chest and sculpted abs used to make him self-conscious, but that was before Tim tied him down and licked and kissed and rubbed his cock against every inch of Martin’s form until it was clear Tim was _more_ than happy with his body the way it was. Now Martin can just enjoy his lover’s body without making unfair comparisons. 

Tim flashes a rakish wink. “Like what you see?”

“Yes, sir,” he says without hesitation. 

“D’you want to see more?” Tim teases.

“God, yes, please!”

“How can I say no when you beg so nicely?” 

Tim smiles and unbuttons his jeans, shimmying them down past his hips. He isn’t wearing pants—he rarely does—so his half-hard cock is visible, the reddened head peeking out of its sheath. Martin licks his lips reflexively. 

“I’ve got to piss,” Tim complains. “But I can’t when you've got me like _this.”_ He fists his cock, stroking himself to full hardness. 

“I can—I can help you with that,” Martin promises. 

“You really should, since it's your fault. Should I let him help, Jon?”

Jon purses his lips, pretending to consider. “We don’t want to spoil him. We should make him earn it.”

“Hmm, good point. How can our little pet earn a taste of my cock?”

Martin whines involuntarily, clenching his thighs together, and Jon slaps his mound. Martin’s bladder aches fiercely. He bites his lip hard. 

“I think he needs a spanking,” Jon says conversationally. “To prove how much he wants it.”

“I want it so badly,” Martin babbles. "Please, Jon, please, Tim—"

“A spanking?” Tim asks, ignoring Martin entirely. Without looking, he swats Martin in the same place, making him keen. 

“Yes. If he can hold his bladder while I spank him, he can have your cock in his mouth. But if he spills so much as a _drop…”_ Jon wraps his hand over Martin’s cock and squeezes warningly. “Then he’ll be punished.”

“I’ll be good!” Martin promises, though he’s not sure how much longer he can hold on. Hopefully long enough for Tim to come in his mouth; he loves feeling the pulse of his cock against his tongue, loves the bitter taste and the way Tim pets his hair and calls him a good boy after. Fuck, he’s getting wet just thinking about it. Jon seems to notice, sliding two fingers into the slickness and holding them up to the light. 

“You’re already wet,” Jon murmurs. “Spread your legs, slut. I want to see you.” Martin spreads his thighs as wide as he can, revealing his swollen pink folds. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” Tim comments. “What a gorgeous little cunt you have.”

Martin whimpers, and Jon uses his distraction to slap him right across his slit. Martin gasps and squirms, overwhelmed at the shock of pain and arousal that shoots up his spine. Tears prick at his eyelids. 

“Are you going to cry for us?” Tim asks, brushing the head of his cock across Martin’s cheek. “I love it when you cry. Our perfect little pet.”

Martin’s cheeks flush, and he’s about to answer when Jon slaps his inner thigh, a sharp sting that makes him gasp. Tim’s cock pushes between his parted lips, and he opens wider, swiping his tongue against the underside. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfect little slut,” Jon muses. “So eager. So _needy.”_ He punctuates the last statement with a sharp slap to Martin’s cock that makes his cunt spasm around nothing. He whines high in his throat, wishing they would fill him, though Tim’s cock is already so good in his mouth, warm and heavy against his tongue. 

“You’re right. A perfect little cockslut.” Tim brushes his hand over Martin’s curls, thrusting in deeper, until his balls brush Martin’s chin. Martin swallows desperately in an effort to stop himself from choking. 

Normally Martin could lose himself in the rhythm of Tim’s thrusts, the taste of him in his mouth, but Jon pulls back and slaps Martin’s tits, abruptly pulling him back to awareness. He squirms as Jon slaps all over them, the tops, the sides, his nipples. He even lifts them up to slap underneath, until Martin's chest is a deep rosy pink, and he can feel the heat radiating from his skin. Tim reaches down to pinch a nipple, and he yelps. 

“Sloppy work,” Jon critiques, seizing Martin by the hair. “You need to take more. Let me show you.” 

He pulls Martin onto Tim’s cock, ignoring how he gags when it hits the back of his throat. Martin forces himself to swallow, tears running down his face as his nose brushes Tim’s neatly trimmed thatch. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Tim moans, rolling his hips against Martin’s face. His hand grips Martin’s hair as both he and Jon guide his head, using Martin like a toy. Drool runs down Martin's chin. He moans around Tim’s cock, so aroused he thinks he might pass out. 

Then Jon slaps his mound again, and he squeals, his bladder achingly full. 

“I think he’s going to piss himself,” Tim muses. 

“Our pet knows better,” Jon says, slapping him again. “Isn’t that right, Martin?”

Martin hums his agreement, unable to speak with Tim fucking his mouth. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold on, but he _wants_ Jon to be right. He wants to be their perfect pet. Even when Jon’s next slap lands on his lower abdomen, right over his bladder, and fresh tears leak from his closed eyelids. 

“If he’s good, maybe he’ll get fucked, too,” Tim muses. 

“Is that what you want, Martin?” Jon demands, wrapping his hand around Martin’s throat. “Do you want us to use all of your holes tonight? To fuck you like the little slut you are?”

Martin moans his agreement, and Jon squeezes just hard enough to make his pulse race. With his free hand, Jon slaps Martin’s cunt over and over again, so fast his whole body goes tense, his thighs shaking as he approaches the edge. 

Then Jon stops, leaving him aching and so close it hurts. 

“I can feel your cock in his throat,” Jon says. Tim moans, driving in so deep Martin gags. “He’s a perfect little cocksleeve, isn’t he?”

“Fuck, yes,” Tim groans, reaching down to feel for himself. 

“Are you going to come down his throat, or on his face?” 

Martin moans at the idea, feeling himself grow even wetter. 

“They both have their merits,” Tim says, pulling back to let Martin gasp for breath. He grabs Martin by the hair, pulling until his mouth is pressed against his balls. Martin takes the hint and sucks them into his mouth one at a time. His face is sloppy with drool, but he doesn't care. He can tell Tim is close. “What would you like, sweetheart?”

“Come on my face,” Martin begs. “I want to be covered in your come and piss, _please.”_

Tim moans, pulling back so he can fuck into Martin’s mouth again. He grips Martin tight by the hair as he thrusts mercilessly deep, just the way Martin loves it. Just before he comes, he pulls out, jerking himself roughly until he comes in thick white spurts on Martin’s cheeks, in his eyelashes, in his open mouth. Martin closes his eyes and swallows, satisfied. 

“Such a good boy,” Tim says roughly, running a hand through Martin’s hair. “Do you want me to feed it to you?”

Martin nods eagerly as Tim dips his fingers in the streaks of come, pushing it into Martin’s mouth. He can taste the salt of his tears alongside Tim’s spend, and it’s lovely, the two of them blended together. His tongue laps every trace from Tim’s skin. 

“Now that I’ve cleaned you up, it’s time to get you dirty again,” Tim says, flashing him a wink. 

Martin’s mouth goes dry as Tim takes hold of his cock and aims at his face. For a moment nothing happens, as Tim forces himself to relax. Then the first hot stream hits him in the chest, and he gasps. 

“Like that, do you?” Tim asks, aiming for Martin’s hair. His face flushes hotly as Tim’s piss soaks into his curls and runs down his face. 

“You’re making a mess,” Jon chides, seizing a handful of Martin’s hair. “Open up.”

“He’s already a wet mess,” Tim teases, looking between Martin’s spread thighs. 

Martin flushes and opens his mouth, letting Jon pull him onto Tim’s cock so he’s forced to swallow the piss as it spills out. Tim gasps at the touch of his tongue, sensitive from coming so recently. Martin licks him delicately until he pulls back. 

“Perfect,” Tim murmurs, leaning down to kiss Martin's cheek. "Such a good pet."

“Thank you, Tim,” Martin whispers against his cheek. 

He gasps as Jon slaps his cunt again. His bladder hurts more than ever, so full that it makes him shiver. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” Jon asks. His fingers rub the place they slapped, making Martin shiver. 

“Fuck, please, yes,” Martin whimpers, bucking against Jon’s hand. Jon leans down to kiss him before stepping away to put on his harness. Tim lays down next to him, cuddling him as they watch Jon get ready. 

Jon’s harness is blood red, a gorgeous contrast against his dark brown skin. The straps cup his small, pert arse cheeks. Martin swallows when he sees the toy Jon has selected: a thick silicone cock with a wicked curve for Martin’s g-spot. It’s the same deep red as his harness. 

“I doubt we’ll be needing lubricant, will we?” Jon asks, glancing between Martin’s thighs. 

“N-no, sir,” Martin says. 

Jon settles between his thighs, leaning down to kiss him deeply. Martin’s fingers itch to run through Jon’s hair, but he’s still tied. Instead he arches against Jon’s body, eager to have his skin pressed against Jon’s. 

“I love you,” Jon murmurs, and pushes inside him. 

Martin gasps, too overwhelmed to answer as Jon’s cock stretches him open and presses against his bladder, a fierce pleasure-pain that leaves him breathless. Tim kisses the side of his neck, murmuring something soothing Martin doesn’t really hear. 

“You’re so tight,” Jon comments, hips rolling in another thrust. “I can barely move.”

“You must be close,” Tim murmurs. 

“I—I have to piss,” Martin whimpers. “Please, Jon—”

Jon presses down hard on Martin’s cock, making him gasp. “Not yet, love. Soon.”

Jon fucks him with nearly clinical precision, each thrust designed to make Martin fall apart, sobbing with pain and pleasure. The ridges of his cock rub against all the secret parts of him, the ones that make his toes curl and his thighs shake. The pain in his bladder is almost sweet, even as it makes tears roll down his face, washing away the come and the piss. 

“Please, Jon,” he begs. “Please, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” Jon orders, reaching down to rub Martin’s cock.

Martin sobs loudly as the pressure builds and builds, each stroke of Jon’s cock making it both better and worse. Just when he thinks he’s going to burst, Jon murmurs, “Now, love,” and it’s like a dam breaking; Martin lets go, and the pleasure rips through him, making him clench down on Jon’s cock as he pisses all over them both. Jon fucks him through it, kissing his face as he milks every last spasm, every last drop of piss from Martin. By the end, Martin’s shaking all over, babbling praise against Jon’s mouth as he comes back to himself. 

Tim unclips Martin’s cuffs from the headboard, rubbing warmth back into his arms as he kisses his face and neck. 

“I am a _very_ lucky man,” Martin murmurs. 

“And a very good pet,” Tim praises. “Are you ready to clean up?”

“Just a few more minutes,” Martin says, holding Jon close. Jon kisses his chest, snuggling against him. 

Once Martin’s ready, Tim helps him into the shower, while Jon changes the sheets. Tim lets him lean against his broad chest. Soon the spray of warm water begins to wash away the evidence of what they’d done, leaving only a feeling of peace and sweet exhaustion. Jon joins them a few moments later, leaning down to kiss the name of Martin’s neck.

“Thank you,” Martin murmurs, nuzzling Tim’s chest. “I love you both so much.” 

“You deserve it. And we love you, too.” Tim leans down to kiss him on the forehead. 

“We do,” Jon echoes. 

Tim pours shampoo between his palms, working it into a lather before massaging it into Martin’s curls. His fingers somehow manage to find every sensitive spot on Martin’s scalp, making him moan and lean into the contact.

“You were so good for us,” Jon says, running a washcloth over Martin’s back and shoulders. “So beautiful.”

Martin murmurs something unintelligible against Tim’s collar bone, then lets himself drift off, enjoying the heat and the closeness as they clean him from head to toe. When they finally finish, he lets out a sleepy protest. 

“Come on, pet. We can’t stay in the shower all night. You’ll get pruny.” Tim taps Martin’s nose with a finger. 

“I suppose,” Martin says grudgingly. 

Jon pats Martin’s curls dry, letting Tim towel him off before they bundle him into a fluffy robe. The three of them brush their teeth side by side. Their kisses afterwards taste like mint and sleepiness. By the time they make it to bed, even Tim is yawning. 

Martin takes the middle, as he does most nights. Both Tim and Jon need their space sometimes, but usually one or the other is up for a cuddle. Tonight Jon drapes himself against Martin’s back, while Martin curls up against Tim’s chest. 

“You’re so good to me,” Martin says muzzily. 

“Only the best for our boy,” Tim rumbles, dropping another kiss on his forehead. He leans over to give Jon a last kiss as well. 

They fall asleep twined together, bodies sated and comfortable. Martin doesn’t dream that night, but he doesn’t need to; he already has the most perfect thing he can imagine.


	2. Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Jon needs to be taken down a peg. Tim and Martin are more than willing to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit harder-edged than the last, with more humiliation, plus emeto kink. Tooth's help as beta and cheerleader was absolutely invaluable, as this is my first time writing this kink. Please let me know how I did!
> 
> Words used for Jon’s and Martin’s anatomy: cunt, slit, lips, cock, tits

Jon sinks to his knees in front of the bed, his heart racing in anticipation. They don’t often get to do what he’s asked for tonight—Tim and Martin have strict limits to prevent him from being harmed —but he’s earned a treat. 

“If it isn’t our little slut,” Tim says derisively. “Come to beg to be used?”

Jon’s cheeks flush, and he swallows hard, looking down at the floor. He can feel Tim staring down at him from the bed. Tim’s derision makes his skin feel hot all over. 

“Y-yes,” he chokes out. 

“I’m not sure we should give you the satisfaction,” Tim sneers. 

“Now, Tim,” Martin says reasonably. “I think we should give our slut the chance to humiliate himself. It’s what he deserves.”

Jon almost moans out loud, clenching his thighs together. Martin is  _ good  _ when he gets in the right headspace for this. For someone who loves nurturing people, he’s fantastic at tearing them down when they need it. 

“Why should we use a pathetic whore like you?” Tim asks, leaning back and crossing his slim legs. 

Jon licks his lips nervously. “I, I can make you feel good. Please let me suck your—your cock.” 

Jon watches hungrily as Tim’s hand trails up his own thigh to cup himself through his jeans. 

“I can get anyone to suck my cock. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Jon shuffles forward, laying his cheek against Tim’s knee and looking up at him. 

“Please, Tim,” he begs. “I want your cock in my mouth. I need you to fuck my throat until I choke. I need both of you,  _ please.” _

“You beg so sweetly,” Tim admits, grabbing Jon by the hair and pulling hard. Jon yelps, going limp in his grasp. 

“He really does. He’s a desperate little slut, isn’t he?” Martin cups Jon’s chin, thumbing his lower lip roughly. 

“I’m  _ your  _ slut,” Jon promises, leaning into the touch. For a moment, Martin indulges him, stroking his cheek gently. 

“Take your clothes off,” Martin orders. “Show us what we’re getting, and we  _ might  _ consider.” 

Jon shudders, reaching up to unknot his tie. His hands shake as he pulls it from his collar, setting it neatly on the floor beside him. He pulls his jumper over his head and folds it, setting it to the side as well before unbuttoning his shirt. Part of him wishes he hadn’t chosen to wear so much clothing. Tim’s appreciative gaze makes me think it was less of a mistake than he imagined. Tim has always enjoyed divesting him of his layers. 

When Jon pulls his binder overhead, Tim whistles, and Jon’s cheeks grow hot again. Tim reaches down to fondle him, squeezing the little handfuls of flesh. 

“I guess you do have some redeeming qualities,” Tim admits, pinching a nipple between his fingertips. Jon gasps and squirms, earning another pinch. “Hold still, slut.” 

Tim and Martin take turns pinching and squeezing Jon’s chest, kneading the soft flesh, even slapping him. By the end, his nipples are stiff and flushed dark brown, and Jon is panting. 

“P-please, Tim. M-martin.” he begs. 

“Please, what?” Martin asks mockingly. “Please use you like the useless slut you are?”

Jon whimpers, arousal curling low in his belly. “Yes, please!”

Martin pinches one of his nipples cruelly. “Say it.”

“Please, Martin, I’m a useless slut!” Jon whimpers. “P-please use me like one.”

Martin leans down to kiss his forehead. “With pleasure.”

Jon’s mouth waters as he watches Martin open his belt and pull down his trousers, revealing his thick blue silicone strap. Jon knows this cock well; it’s one of their favorites, a double-ended toy with one end buried firmly in Martin’s cunt so he can feel every movement. Martin makes a show of fisting his cock, running his hand down the length of it for Jon to see. 

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Jon leans forward to mouth at the head, looking up at Martin through his lashes. Martin hums with approval, his fingers combing through Jon’s hair. Jon’s tongue darts out to taste the hard silicone. He can smell Martin’s arousal, salty-sweet and tantalizingly close. 

“Very good, pet,” Martin praises, cupping Jon’s cheek. “Why don’t you take a little more?”

Jon slides forward to take more into his mouth, swallowing carefully. He’s just about to pull back when Tim’s hand tangles in his hair, forcing him further onto Martin’s cock. Martin moans, hips bucking into Jon’s mouth as he gags hard. Tim’s grip is firm and implacable as Jon fights to adjust. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Martin sighs, petting Jon’s face as he works his hips in small circles. He ignores Jon’s struggles as Tim shoves him all the way down, until his face is pressed against Martin’s soft, warm belly. Just when Jon thinks he’s going to choke, Tim pulls him off, letting him gasp for breath. His mouth is sloppy with spit, but he’s too overwhelmed to care. 

“He looks good with your dick in him,” Tim comments, leaning over to kiss Martin. His hand wraps around Martin’s wet shaft, jerking him lazily as Martin moans into his mouth. Jon whimpers, pressing his thighs together as he watches. 

“He really does,” Martin murmurs. “Does our little slut want more?”

Tears of humiliation gather in Jon’s eyes as he whispers, “Yes.”

“Louder, slut,” Tim snaps, reaching down to twist Jon’s nipple cruelly. “Show us how proud you are to be our whore.”

“Yes! Please use me, Martin!” Jon sobs. “I want to be your whore.”

Martin’s expression softens. “Oh, pet,” he croons. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

Martin grabs his hair with both hands, pulling him back onto his cock. Jon barely has time to open his mouth before the thick head is forced between his lips. The first few thrusts are shallow, pressing against his tongue and cheeks, before Martin works his way into Jon’s throat. 

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Martin moans, hips rolling up as he fucks Jon’s face. “Oh, pet, you were made for this. Fuck!” 

Martin grips Jon tight as he fucks his throat with small, jerky thrusts. Jon’s hands clench into fists by his side. Tears run down as his face as Martin shamelessly uses his throat. He can tell Martin is close by the way he breathes, by the scent of his slick so tantalizingly close. Martin pulls back, breathing hard. 

“Do you want me to come down your throat?” he asks, voice thick with arousal. 

“Fuck, yes, please, Martin,” Jon begs. 

“Good boy,” Martin praises, dragging him back onto his cock. This time he doesn’t bother with foreplay, simply fucking his way into Jon’s throat, ignoring the way Jon sputters and gags around his thick cock. His thrusts are deep and merciless, violating Jon’s throat with each pass and making his stomach roil. Jon’s head begins to spin, faint from lack of air. He knows vaguely that he’s a mess, his face covered in tears and snot and spit, but it’s worth it when Martin cries out, fists clenching in his hair, and grinds into his throat one last time as he comes. 

When Martin pulls out, Jon coughs hard, unable to stop himself from spewing the contents of his stomach all over his lap. Just water today. Martin had made sure he’d stayed on a liquid diet for this occasion, and for good reason. A sense of relief washes over him, mingled with humiliation. 

“Look at that filthy whore,” Tim says, yanking him up by the hair to show off his dirty face. Jon pants, fighting to catch his breath. “He’s even been sick on his trousers. Like a child.”

Jon’s cheeks burn. His thighs are already growing cold and damp from where he vomited on himself. 

“It’s not his fault,” Martin says, grabbing a handful of Jon’s hair and rubbing it in the mess on Jon’s face. “He doesn’t know any better.”

Humiliation twists in Jon’s gut, mixing with the rush of arousal from witnessing Martin’s orgasm. His heart races as Martin kisses Tim, trailing a hand down his chest to cup the bulge in his jeans. Tim groans and pulls Martin in closer, fingers tangling in his auburn curls as Martin strokes him. Jon’s fingers clench with the urge to lean in and join them. 

“D’you want to make yourself useful, slut?” Tim asks, spreading his thighs to show off his erection. 

“Yes,  _ please,” _ Jon moans helplessly. With anyone else, the shame of debasing himself would be too much. With Tim and Martin, it’s just right. 

Tim grabs Jon by the hair and mashes his face against the crotch of his jeans. Jon’s tongue flicks out to lick Tim through his jeans, leaving a damp patch on the fabric as Tim lowers as zip and takes out his cock. He’s fully hard, with a bead of moisture at the tip that Jon can’t resist lapping up. Tim shudders, gripping Jon’s hair so tight it brings tears to his eyes. Jon moans in response, teasing the head with his lips until Tim growls and forces his way inside. 

“Little tease,” he complains, working Jon’s head up and down his cock. His thrusts are shallow at first, becoming gradually deeper, until the head of his cock bumps against Jon’s sore throat and makes him gag. “You’d think we trained you to handle a cock better than that.”

Tim pushes past the resistance, sinking deep into Jon’s throat with a loud sigh. “Fuck, that’s perfect.” 

Jon swallows desperately, fighting his spasming throat until Tim pulls off. Tears run down his face as he coughs. 

“You know, if you really want to fuck his throat, you should lay him down and let his head hang off the bed,” Martin suggests. 

“Would you like that, pet?” Tim asks, pulling him back down onto his cock for another deep, merciless thrust. Jon gags, though he nods afterwards, blinking back more tears. 

Martin leans down to kiss his cheek, then scoops him up, depositing him on the bed. Jon’s stomach gives a little swoop at how easily Martin lifts him, setting him gently on the bed with his head hanging over the edge.

“Don’t you look a treat,” Tim purrs, running his thumb over Jon’s lower lip. “My sweet little slut ready to be used. Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jon whispers.

Tim’s cock slaps against his cheek, leaving a wet trail. 

“Louder,” he demands. “Tell me what a filthy little slut you are.”

“I’m a, a dirty whore,” Jon confesses, licking his lips. “I need you to use me. Please, Tim. I need you to fuck my throat.”

“How could I resist such a good little whore?” Tim asks, taking his cock in hand and sliding it between Jon’s lips. 

This time it’s easier for Tim to sink into his throat, letting out a low moan as he does so. Jon doesn’t gag until Tim’s almost all the way inside, his balls pressed against Jon’s nose. Tim massages Jon’s throat, feeling the outline of his cock through the skin. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Tim groans, pushing deeper with a loud, wet sound that makes Jon’s cock twitch. Tim fucks Jon’s face like he would his fist, fast and merciless, ignoring the soft choking sounds Jon makes. After a few moments, he pulls off to let Jon gasp for air. 

“What a perfect little slut,” Martin croons. “Wants to suck cock more than he wants to breathe.” 

Martin cups Jon through his trousers, making him whine and buck against his hand. 

“What’s that, pet? Do you want something?”

“Please, Martin,” Jon begs. “Touch me, lick me, fuck me,  _ anything.” _

“Touch you...” Martin says meditatively. “Like this?” 

Martin slaps Jon’s cock, making him yelp and squeeze his thighs together.

"Fuck, please, anything you want!" Jon begs, squirming as Martin pulls his trousers down. 

"Look at this pretty cock, Tim," Martin says, running his fingers down either side of it. "Nice and hairless. And so  _ wet, _ too."

Martin's fingers trail into the slick gathering between his lips. He rubs teasing circles around Jon's entrance, making him gasp and spread his thighs reflexively. 

"What a perfect slut," Tim marvels. He slaps Jon's cock, making him whine high in his throat. “Turn over.”

Jon’s hormone-addled brain takes a moment to process the request, earning him another swat before he manages to obey. Martin takes advantage of his prone position to spank his arse cheeks. Jon moans and thrusts his arse against Martin’s hands. 

“Are you going to fuck him, Martin?”

Jon whimpers, squirming against the sheets as Martin teases a finger down his slit. 

“He  _ has  _ been a good little slut...I suppose he deserves to have his greedy little holes filled, doesn’t he?” Martin circles his fingertip around Jon’s cock.

“Please, Martin!” Jon begs, well past the point of shame. 

“Open up,” Martin orders. Jon spreads his thighs as wide as he can, “There’s a good boy. Time for your reward.”

Jon groans with relief as Martin sinks inside, filling him in one smooth stroke. Martin’s hands pet Jon’s hips and sides, his touch equal parts soothing and possessive. Jon’s head falls back as he savors Martin’s weight on his body, his Martin’s skin against his skin, Martin’s cock stretching him open. Jon has never felt so beautifully, deeply owned. 

Tim climbs up onto the bed so he can tease the head of his cock against Jon’s lips. Jon takes the invitation, letting Tim thrust into his mouth. 

“You take it so well,” Martin praises. He grabs Jon by the hips so he can drive in deeper, drawing a low whine from his throat. 

None of them are in the mood for teasing at this point; Tim uses Jon’s mouth with brutal abandon, forcing his cock as deep as it will go. He chuckles when Jon chokes, refusing to let up until Jon loses control again, emptying what’s left in his stomach all over the sheets. Martin doesn’t even pause, fucking him mercilessly.

“You want me to come on your pretty little face?” Tim growls, smearing the head of his cock against Jon’s lips. 

“Fuck, yes, please,” Jon moans, eyes fluttering shut as Tim jerks himself with rough strokes. Moments later, spatters of come hit his closed eyelids, his nose, his lips. Jon licks it up hungrily.

“I think you deserve a little reward,” Tim murmurs. 

His hand slides between Jon and the mattress, squeezing his cock. Jon gasps as he begins stroking him in time with Martin’s thrusts. 

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck—”  _ Jon manages, before a well-aimed thrust makes him fall apart, and he comes with a ragged shout.

Afterwards things grow fuzzy for Jon. He’s vaguely aware of someone cleaning him and pulling a blanket up to his chest. Someone holds a bottle to his lips, and he takes slow sips of water while someone else cleans him with a damp cloth. When he comes to, he’s cradled against Martin’s chest, with Tim stroking his back in soothing circles. 

“Did you get to come?” Jon rasps. 

“I got everything I wanted,” Martin assures him, kissing him on the forehead. “How about you?”

Jon pauses to take stock of himself. His throat is sore, his muscles aching, but mostly he just feels relaxed and cared for. “It was perfect,” he says simply. 

“Good,” Tim says, nuzzling the back of Jon’s neck. “You deserve perfect.” 

Jon reaches an arm behind himself to draw Tim closer. His chest feels so full with affection he thinks he might burst. 

“Thank you,” he says, because he’s not sure he can handle anything else. “I love you both.”

“Right back at you,” Tim murmurs, tightening his embrace. 

Martin kisses them both. “I love you, too.”

Jon relaxes against their warm bodies, eyes slowly drifting shut. 


End file.
